


My convex to your concave

by Zooey_Glass



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-24
Updated: 2009-05-24
Packaged: 2017-10-02 09:48:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zooey_Glass/pseuds/Zooey_Glass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em> Are you ready now? / Are you gonna glow in the dark? / Are you gonna show me how? </em></p>
            </blockquote>





	My convex to your concave

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the lovely [parenthetical](http://archiveofourown.org/users/parenthetical/pseuds/parenthetical).
> 
> Title and summary from Ani DiFranco's 'Angel Food'.

"I don't understand."

Castiel knows he should be somewhere on the other side of the world, but here he is anyway. Fallen leaves crunch under his feet, a satisfying rustling sound that he doesn't recall ever noticing before. Of course, for most of his two thousand years on earth he wasn't inhabiting a corporeal body.

Dean jumps and rounds on him, gun raised. He gives a disgusted look when he sees who it is and lowers it again. "Jesus. What is it with you and the stalker act?"

"You take Our Lord's name in vain," Castiel says mildly. It's not really a rebuke: if he took Dean Winchester to task on all his sins, great and small, then the Lord's work would never be done.

"Yeah, well." Dean looks mutinous. "From what I hear, He deserves it."

Castiel lets the comment pass, telling himself that God's will is forgiveness and ignoring the unfamiliar jump of his heart in his borrowed body. Human physiology is unpredictable.

"I don't understand," he says again.

"Yeah, well, I don't either." Dean kicks at the leaves on the path. "Anna was a nice girl, she just wanted to be left alone."

"She chose to Fall," Castiel persists.

"Well, apparently singing with the heavenly hosts isn't a patch on a night with Dean Winchester." Dean smirks a little, but his eyes are soft and sad.

Castiel's not sure when he learned to notice such things. He was taught to look into the human soul and read it like an open book, but that doesn't compare to the secrets he glimpses when he looks into Dean Winchester's face.

"How can carnal knowledge of a man compare to God's grace?" Castiel wonders.

"You tell me." Dean rounds on him with sudden anger. "You know the things I've seen and done, and then you talk about God's grace? Even _you_ don't know for sure he's real."

Castiel hesitates. There's something in Dean's tone that he can't interpret: a plea, maybe, or a challenge. He takes a deep breath and smells the smoke of bonfires in the air, the tang of wood smoke a pleasant contrast to the crisp, cold scent of winter on its way.

He lets the breath out.

"I have faith," he says simply.

"Yeah." Dean's voice is flat and defeated.

Castiel doesn't know what else he can say, so he lets it drop. They walk on in silence, side by side.

There's a pleasure in this, Castiel realizes. He's walked by the side of men before, but rarely in corporeal form, and usually they've been unaware of his presence. It feels different to fall into step with Dean and see him adjusting his stride in return; to hang back when the path gets narrow, or duck under a branch when Dean lifts it out of the way.

"It's a comfort," he says after a while.

"What?" Dean gives Castiel the look that he's come to recognize as meaning that whatever he's said doesn't make any sense in human terms. The look's almost fond this time, though, like Dean's just gotten too used to him to even get annoyed any more.

"Carnal knowledge." It's slotting into place in Castiel's head now. "You took comfort in Anna's body."

Dean rolls his eyes. "And the winner of this week's Jeopardy is... Castiel!"

Castiel ignores him, too busy working this out to pay attention. "And your brother sought comfort in the demon girl when you were in Hell."

Dean flinches. "So what if he did?"

"Empires have risen and fallen for the sake of such things." It feels like he's in the verge of something, but Castiel still can't quite grasp what it is. "For the sake of a simple bodily act."

Dean stops walking and looks at him. "Christ, you really don't get it, do you?"

Castiel opens his mouth to answer, and suddenly Dean's lips are on his, stealing his breath. Dean crushes their mouths together, warm soft-hard pressure that's completely unfamiliar and yet completely natural, and Castiel finds himself kissing back.

Kissing. They're _kissing_.

The shock of the thought is enough to arrest Castiel in his tracks and he jerks away, breathless and confused. This is not supposed to happen.

"Castiel?" Dean's eyes are wide and dark, his mouth stained a tempting red with their kisses.

Castiel nods weakly, too confused to formulate any other response. Dean apparently takes it for some kind of encouragement, leaning in to take his mouth again.

The kiss is more gentle this time, the length of Dean's body pressed close against his. Castiel feels himself opening up to it, letting Dean's tongue slip hot and wet into his mouth.

Dean gives a little moan and tugs on Castiel's hips, snugging their bodies tighter together, and oh - _oh_. Castiel can feel the hot solid pressure of Dean's cock pressed up against his own, realizes that the sweet, unfamiliar ache he's feeling is his own hardness. His hips buck involuntarily at the thought, and Dean grinds back against him, one hand sliding round to cup the muscle of his buttocks.

Castiel's own hands are moving now, questing underneath for Dean's clothes for something he can't even articulate. He sighs when he touches bare skin, stroking the warm smoothness and marvelling at the flex and strength of Dean's muscles underneath. Truly, God's creation is good.

Dean is gentle, almost cautious, as he wraps his fingers around Castiel's cock. Castiel hears himself cry out as he bucks into the touch, seeking more, and Dean takes a firmer grip, tight hot pressure wrapped around Castiel until he can't think or speak or do anything except spill helplessly into Dean's grasp.

Afterwards, Dean holds him for a moment before he pulls away, wiping his hand on his jeans.

Castiel folds himself back into his clothes, but he still feels naked, exposed. When he looks up Dean's eyes are still on him.

"That's what it is," Dean says.

"Yes." Castiel blinks in wonderment. "Yes."

Behind Dean, the sunset fills the sky with glorious fire.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Like a Couple of Question Marks](https://archiveofourown.org/works/86486) by [Lisztful](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisztful/pseuds/Lisztful)




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